


Heaven for the Climate, Hell for the Company

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Phil Coulson's Cellist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9970802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: They don't 'do' holidays and that's probably for the best.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the be_compromised valentine mini-promptathon
> 
> Answering my own prompt (which was really more for Andibeth) regarding a sparkly card that read "You had me at Hell<3 and one or the other giving it at Valentine's Day.

Coulson and Clint leaned side by side against the car hood and watched the drama across the street unfold. As SHIELD operations went, it wasn't going so bad. Junior agents Torres and Kim were doing a decent job of corralling the arms dealers who'd been working out of the corner deli and there was minimal damage done. Sure, they lacked the finesse of some of SHIELD's seasoned agents, but they were doing ok.

"I think our job here is done," Coulson said as he pushed away from the car. He touched his earpiece. "Mission was successful. Bring in the clean-up crew.'

"Fury gonna be ok with you leaving early?" Clint asked.

Coulson shrugged and gestured to the drugstore behind them. "Hey, do you mind if we duck in here for a minute before we head out?"

"Sure," he said, following Coulson into the store and down an aisle filled with novelty gifts. "What's the occasion?"

Coulson shot him a funny look. "Valentine's Day? 

"Is it?" Clint asked.

"You haven't been hearing more cupid jokes than usual lately?"

It was Clint's turn to shrug. "Most people are smart enough not to make the cupid jokes within my hearing."

"What about all the red hearts that've popped up in the store windows? You haven't noticed them?"

"Not really much of a holiday guy," Clint said as they stopped in front of a rack of cards. He flipped through a few, only to find that they all had saccharinely sweet pictures and sentiments. "Who're you looking to impress?"

"After the symphony the other night, I was invited backstage to meet some of the musicians. The cellist… her playing was amazing. I've never heard anything so beautiful."

Clint snorted back a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you're buying a card and candy for her because her _music_ was amazing."

Coulson ignored him and gave him a pointed look. "You really didn't notice all the hearts? There's no one you might possibly want to celebrate the holiday with?"

This time Clint didn't even try to hide his laugh. "You mean Natasha? Seriously, Phil, do you really see us as hearts and flowers kind of people?"

"No, I suppose not, unless we're talking about bloody hearts." Coulson sighed. "But at least maybe get her a card?"

"Why not?" Clint agreed, reaching out to randomly grab the nearest one. "I'll take this one."

Coulson looked at it askance. "That one?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head. "You're right. You really aren't a hearts and flowers kind of guy."

\---

"Here," Clint said, tossing the signed Valentine's card on the cafeteria table in front of Natasha the next day at lunch.

She picked it up and carefully turned it around in her hands. "What is this?"

Clint flipped a chair around and sat, leaning forward. "Coulson thought we should celebrate Valentine's Day."

Natasha blinked. "Us?"

"I tried to tell him, but hey, it's Coulson. What was I supposed to say?"

"That we don't celebrate holidays," Natasha said patiently, still staring at the deep red envelope as if it would explode on her at any moment.

"He's seeing some cellist he met at the symphony the other night. Everything's romantic to him right now," he said, grabbing the mug sitting in front of her and taking a sip. "Ugh, herbal?"

She smirked at his disgruntled look. "Get your own if you don't like mine."

"Nah. Too much work. So, you gonna open your card?" Clint asked, flicking the corner of the envelope.

She shrugged. "I guess."

Sliding a nail beneath the edge, she slit it open and pulled the card out. She looked at the sparkly letters in confusion. "You had me at Hell?"

"Hello," Clint corrected her, pointing at the card. 

"No, I'm pretty sure it says Hell. You're saying we met in Hell."

He blinked, looking a little more objectively at the card before starting to laugh. "You know, that might not be wrong. We were both in a hell of sorts when we first met."

She tilted her head, considering, then sniffed delicately. "You maybe. I was doing fine until you started pointing your arrows at me and attracting a lot of unwanted attention from the Turkish police."

"Hey! I don't think that was all my doing. You left more than a few dead bodies in your wake before I started tracking you. You don't think you were on their radar because of that?"

"Maybe. It still doesn't change the fact that your card says Hell." 

"Fine. My card says Hell," Clint grumbled.

Natasha thoughtfully tapped a nail against the card. "You know, maybe we could use this as leverage."

Clint looked at her in confusion. "Leverage against Coulson?"

Natasha nodded. "To negotiate a little time off."

Clint immediately straightened in his chair. "Tell me more."

\---

It became a private joke between them, tossing _Hell_ back and forth in greeting instead of _hello_ , much to Coulson's chagrin. The younger agents were starting to get even twitchier than usual when they were around.

"Did they just…" Ayala asked.

"I thought they were partners?" Wildman whispered.

"Hell? What kind of mission is this that we're going on?" Kes groaned.

Finally, Coulson couldn't take it anymore. He cornered them before they boarded the quinjet on the way to Kazakhstan.

"A word, Agents?"

"Uh-oh," Natasha said, smirking. "Phil is calling us Agents. Must mean we're in trouble."

Clint immediately got defensive. "If you're gonna reprimand us about the thing at the shooting range, you should know --"

Coulson held up his hand. "Listen, I know you two have a very twisted sense of humor, but the Hell thing has got to stop. Other agents are starting to get scared."

"Starting?" Natasha raised a brow, then turned to Clint. "We must be losing our touch. "

Coulson rolled his eyes. "Stop. This is exactly what I'm talking about. If I promise not to push any more holiday celebrations on you, will you stop?"

Clint glanced at Nat and then pinned Coulson with a look. "Gonna need a little more there, boss. How about a couple of weeks leave when we get back? And total radio silence for the entire two weeks."

"That's not my decision."

"But you can talk to Fury about it," Natasha said.

"I'll see what I can do," Coulson said. "But I make no promises. Now about this Hell thing…"

"We promise to behave," Clint said and Natasha nodded. "Can we go now?"

"Go!" Coulson said, waving them off. "Save the world and all that stuff. And behave!"

"Yes, Dad."


End file.
